


A Feeling I'm Falling

by roboticonography



Series: Flames 'verse [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Deleted Scenes, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:22:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4230384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roboticonography/pseuds/roboticonography
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little comfort in the aftermath of an emotional evening. Deleted scene to Chapter 22 of "Flames We Never Lit."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Feeling I'm Falling

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place just before the end of the chapter, continuing from the scene in the bedroom that ended in a "fade to black."

Peggy sat up just enough to pull her t-shirt off, then settled on the bed again, sliding her fingers into his hair.

 

“I missed you,” he murmured, kissing each of her breasts in turn. “So much.”

 

“They missed you too,” she said wryly.

 

He replied with a gentle bite to her nipple, just sharp enough to make her gasp in delight. She tightened her grip, tugging his hair lightly between her knuckles.

 

“Tell me you’ve come prepared,” she breathed.

 

He lifted his head and gave her a sheepish look.

 

Peggy was too emotionally exhausted to be coy. “My handbag, on the kitchen counter.I think they’re the right ones.”

 

He scrambled to his feet so swiftly that the mattress heaved. He yanked his undershirt off as he walked, tossing it on the floor with the rest of his clothes.

 

“Steady on!” Peggy called after him.

 

He returned almost instantly, dangling an entire chain of foil packets.

 

“Ambitious, soldier.”

 

He shot her a very determined, very sexy look—which he promptly spoiled by wiggling his eyebrows comically.

 

She laughed and pulled him down onto the bed, rolling them both until he lay on his back. He was making a good show of it, but he was clearly exhausted, emotionally if not physically. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in every inch of the body that was pressed against hers.

 

Steve had managed to avoid falling prey to most of the usual masculine failings, but obstinacy was one that invariably got the better of him. Peggy knew that offering to let him sleep now would only pique his pride, and spur him into trying to prove her wrong. She wasn’t interested in being made love to as a rhetorical exercise.

 

He needed to rest, and she had a solution in mind.

 

She took the strip of condoms from him. When she tossed them onto the bedside table, Steve looked puzzled, until she made her meaning more clear by settling between his knees, nudging them apart with her elbows.

 

Slowly, she licked a trail along the gorgeous ridge of muscle in his thigh, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh before tugging down the waistband of his underpants. His cock bobbed free, the hard length of it twitching against her palm as she squeezed.

 

Steve groaned, grasping a fistful of the comforter. “Peggy, you don’t…” he protested half-heartedly, the words deeper than usual and slightly slurred.

 

“It isn’t only nice for you, you know,” she reminded him. And this was true: she’d always enjoyed this particular act, and the large measure of control it gave her. “But, of course, if you’d rather not…?”

 

He made a sweet little sound of assent and let his head fall back onto the pillow, his eyes fluttering closed. She adored the sight of him like this—flushed and flustered and so entirely _hers_.

 

“Yes?” she prompted.

 

“Yeah.”

 

She held him steady and flicked her tongue over the tip, softly, just little tastes, until she felt the involuntary jerk of his hips. “So impatient,” she chided, pinning him down with a forearm across his belly.

 

He pushed upwards against her arm—deliberately this time, unless she was very much mistaken. His gaze met and challenged hers.

 

“Remember who’s in charge here.” She licked the salt of him from her lips and smiled. And waited.

 

“Peggy…” His thighs had begun to tremble now.

 

“Say please, my darling.”

 

“Please,” he gasped.

 

She began to work him over in earnest. Before long, he’d forgotten his gentlemanly impulses and was clutching the back of her head with one large hand, his fingers tangled in her curls.

 

To his credit, he did try to warn her when he was close, slackening his grip and giving her shoulder a push. “I’m gonna—”

 

She gave an encouraging hum, and redoubled her efforts, determined to see the thing through. He gave way at last, with a sigh and a bone-deep shudder, and she drank him down, every drop.

 

After the last tremors had ceased, he went slack, as though a cord somewhere had been cut. Peggy crawled up the bed to lie next to him, snuggling into the crook of his arm.

 

“Well done,” she said, stroking his hip. There was a fine dew of perspiration on his skin, which she took to mean that it was a job well done—she’d known him to run for miles, in dozens of pounds of kit, without breaking a sweat. “Now go to sleep.”

 

“What about you?” he asked, drowsily, nosing into her hair. His breathing had already slowed.

 

“I’ll be here in the morning,” she told him.


End file.
